I’m tired from out-of-state travel without my meds (ugh, that was an accident). No meds means I don’t sleep well (plus my serontonin stuff gets outta whack) which means I’m a mess.
I’m a mess over the Syrian refugee crisis. The stories are so heartbreaking. You can help here.
I’m a mess of nerves about this upcoming weekend– I’m going to a YA lit conference in Chicago, and I’m scared no one will like me (this fear is perpetuated by three days of no meds).
OCD Awareness Week is coming up, and I’m reflecting on how much LESS of a mess I am after ERP in 2008.
I’m up to my neck in novel #2. It’s messy work, but I love it. I love these characters.
Life is confusing and delicious and messy. It’s good (for now) for me to wade right in.